


Habits Die Hard

by SpunSugar



Series: Host Club! Yuuri [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alcohol, BDSM, Dom/sub, Gen, Lingerie, M/M, Phichit Chulanont Is a Good Friend, Public Humiliation, Social Media Expert Phichit Chulanont, Sub! Victor, blindfold, cross-dressing, dom! yuuri, flashback to college days, sexual harassment mention, the many sides of Yuuri, threesome mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-26 00:33:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16208954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpunSugar/pseuds/SpunSugar
Summary: Can be viewed as a stand-alone, or a sequel to "Watch Out For The Quiet Ones."Yuuri gets off on dominating Victor. He's become quite confident at it. And Victor is so willing. But when he's not in control, Yuuri is as easily embarrassed as he was back in college. Phichit knows this, and he's been holding onto some prime blackmail material for a long time now. To keep it safe from public eyes. He's a good friend, after all.(Request was for Host!Yuuri combined with Cross-dressing!Yuuri, as a possible continuation of "Watch Out for the Quiet Ones," Bonus for Phichit and Yuri breaking the internet with Yuuri's host day pictures)





	Habits Die Hard

The first time Yuuri came home from the host club dressed as a woman was kind of an accident. Phichit just happened to be awake, and was thanking the universe for all of the circumstances that had led them to this moment. Yuuri was shrinking, mortified in the doorway as his best friend and roommate leapt at him like paparazzi. The shutter on Phichit’s phone was whirring so fast it sounded like it was going to break.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe it’s you! I thought some random girl broke into our room!” Phichit ducked as Yuuri stumbled out of his high heels and threw one of them at him with a limp arm.

“Stop laughing… they made me do it,” Yuuri mumbled, slouching towards the bottom bunk in a zig-zag path.

“I’m only laughing because it looks so good! I didn’t even recognize you!”

Yuuri dropped heavily onto the bed, the skin-tight dress stretching with his body as he wiggled his wrists free of several sets of shining bangles. He rolled the hem of the dress high up his hips without any deference to modesty, struggling to unclasp the garter belts trapping him in his tights.

“Woah!” Phichit looked away reflexively, reddening. “I’m sorry,” he said, with his face buried in the crook of his arm, “but you really look like a girl right now. They made you wear that at work?”

It took Yuuri a moment to respond, his brow scrunched up in concentration as he slid the tights carefully from his outstretched legs. He reached up for his wig, trying to find where it was secured underneath.

“Help me with this?” he pleaded, eager to feel fresh air on his scalp again.

Phichit sat down next to him, pulling out bobby pins and trying not to pull Yuuri’s real hair. The wig suited him- soft black waves falling around his face, over his shoulders. His skin looked dewy and smooth, a rosy glow highlighting his cheekbones. Thick, heavy lashes blinked sleepily above his small nose. Yuuri sighed softly, leaning into Phichit’s shoulder in relief. His slim but muscular shoulders caved in towards his chest, which was lifting gently with each breath. Yuuri really did make a pretty woman… His breath was thick with alcohol fumes. If Phichit were to move suddenly, he was sure that Yuuri would fall over and instantly be asleep.

“There,” Phichit lifted the wig from Yuuri’s head and rustled the sweaty hair underneath, making it stick up. Phichit suppressed a laugh at Yuuri’s disheveled expression.

“Thanks,” Yuuri mumbled, slurring his words as his rested his head on Phichit’s shoulder. “The club across town is merging with ours… the owner is the same. But there was supposed to be a new girl debuting today… she never showed up…”

“So they asked you to fill in?” Phichit concluded.

“‘Ask’ isn’t the right word,” Yuuri corrected indignantly. “It’s exhausting, being a woman… Men harass you for no reason!”

“Did you take the train like this?” Phichit asked in sudden, horrific realization.

“Someone took my clothes… as a joke, I think…”

“Okay, that is kind of funny. But they should have at least made sure that you got home okay!”

Yuuri’s only response was a lazy swat at Phichit’s chest. He was barely holding onto consciousness.

“Alright, well, you can sleep now. You can borrow my makeup remover in the morning.”

“Thnkky,” Yuuri was already face-first in the pillow. “‘M neverdoinggthis again…”

“Don’t worry,” Phichit patted him on the head. “If you decide you’re done with cross-dressing, I’ve got pictures.”

 

 

“That’s great, Yuuri!” Victor praised from across the rink. He chuckled softly. “I really believed that you were a vengeful woman coming to seduce me.”

Yuuri lowered his arms from his finishing pose and dropped his hands to his knees, bending over to catch his breath.

“Well… I can’t say… I haven’t had practice…”

“Getting tired? It’s about time we quit for today. We need to work on your stamina, though,” Victor called, baiting him.

“Ha,” Yuuri panted. “You’re the one who’s always begging me to stop. Don’t talk to me about stamina.”

He raised his eyes with a sharp expression, pleased to catch Victor floundering. He skated over effortlessly to the boards where Victor was waiting for him, gripping Victor’s shoulder possessively as he stepped off of the ice.

“Don’t worry, nobody heard me,” he cooed, his voice low beside Victor’s ear. “It’s fun teasing you when you’re not expecting it.”

Across the rink, Mila and Yurio were shouting at each other while Yakov watched, seemingly urged to rip out whatever was left of his hair.

Yuuri’s other hand was sliding up Victor’s chest, their bodies close together. There was so much pressure behind his hands… Yuuri’s subtle direction always got Victor’s blood hot. He knew just how much attention to give his fiancé in public to really torture him.

“Yuuri-” Victor began.

“On your knees,” Yuuri commanded. He pushed Victor down by the shoulder, but Victor dived willing to Yuuri’s feet, chest tight with excitement.

Yuuri sat down slowly- regally, on the bench and stretched out one of his skates into Victor’s lap, purposefully nudging his crotch, sliding the blade back and forth along the side of it.

“Kiss them.”

Victor lowered his head eagerly, reverently kissing along the sharpened blade, working his way up the side of Yuuri’s skate, then further up his leg.

“That’s right,” Yuuri taunted, rustling Victor’s hair, shoving his face closer to the bottom of his skate. “Kiss that silver.”

Victor gasped as Yuuri withdrew his leg, sliding it with agonizing heaviness across the front of his pants, replacing it with the other foot. Victor’s hands dropped to the dirty floor, his ring making a scraping sound on the ground as he groveled, heart bursting as he covered Yuuri’s skate with kisses.

“Please,” Victor looked up at Yuuri, his cheeks flushed, breathless. “Can I?” His fingers had moved to Yuuri’s laces, hovering delicately just above them, careful not to take without permission.

Yuuri nodded, shifting slightly in his seat, trying to keep control of his expression. Watching Victor submit so willingly was as thrilling each time as it had been the first.

Victor loosened the laces with expert speed, slipping each one off carefully, running a hand along the sides of Yuuri’s feet as he did so.

“Let’s go to the car,” Victor murmured urgently, fighting to stay crouched when he wanted nothing more than Yuuri’s body against his, that second.

Yuuri tsked, smirking devilishly.

“Not this time. You’re going to have to wait until we get home.”

Victor couldn’t stop a hoarse whine from escaping his throat.

“Yuuri... I can’t wait. I don’t want to.”

“You will. I’ve got a surprise waiting for you there. You’ll like it,” Yuuri promised.

“Ohh my, what are the lovebirds doing over there~?” Chris’s voice chimed, echoing across the rink, interrupting their privacy.

“Hey! Perverts!” Yurio growled at the top of his lungs. “Cut it out!”

Victor stood up calmly, face blank- though Yuuri noticed with amusement that his cleanly-pressed clothes were dusty. He reached out his hand for Yuuri, helping to pull him to his feet.

“We were just packing up,” Victor replied. “We’re heading out early tonight.”

“No need to be shy,” Chris insisted. “We all know what you two have planned for the evening. You’ll have to try a little harder to hide it from me, Victor.” He winked.

Yurio let out a guttural screech, grabbing Mila by the arm and hauling her away from the disgusting adults. Yakov was pretending to be very interested in the ceiling architecture.

“Jealous, Chris?” Yuuri ran his hand over Victor’s hip, squeezing playfully. “Too bad you can’t join us tonight... There’s something I want to show him. I need him all to myself.”

“Whew!” Chris feigned a taken aback look, fanning himself dramatically. “Victor, look what your Eros routine has done. It’s frightening.”

“It isn’t my doing,” Victor responded in mock defense.

“Next time I’ll show you,” Yuuri returned Chris’s wink, grabbing Victor by the tie and dragging him out the door, leaving the Swiss skater behind with a spinning imagination.

 

 

“Yuuri… don’t leave me like this. I’m getting cold.”

Victor strained uselessly against the straps pulling his body taut to the bed. His bare chest was heaving impatiently, nipples perking in the open air. He couldn’t see past the black satin wrapped tightly around his head. He could hear rustling in the closet, but Yuuri didn’t respond.

Victor’s mouth fell open as something warm draped itself over top of him. Yuuri tugged the blindfold loose and sat back. He had positioned himself over Victor’s hips but he was balancing just out of reach, presenting Victor with a delicious view.

Sheer black lace was stretched over Yuuri’s bulging pink cock. The outline of the panties dipped low under Yuuri’s hip bones and rode high on his thighs. Little bows lined the way. Pulling tight on Yuuri’s thick upper legs was a pair of garter belts, connected to the black tights concealing his legs- concealing the bruises Victor knew were underneath. Yuuri’s broad chest was displayed in front of him, smooth muscle and pale skin… Victor spotted the bloody mark on Yuuri’s shoulder, still inflamed, from their last intense love-making session, where Victor had bit into him too hard, crying.

Victor reached out instinctively to touch and the restraints tugged back his wrist.

“Ah-ah,” Yuuri scolded, wiggling his ass so low over Victor’s hips that Victor could feel the heat of Yuuri’s body through his briefs. Victor's hips squirmed upwards desperately. Yuuri shoved them back onto the mattress, hard. “Behave, Victor, if you want to see the show…” He climbed down to the end of the bed slowly, running his fingertips down Victor’s chest as he went.

Victor was beautifully exposed.

“From your host days?” Victor managed, his throat feeling dry all of a sudden. He inclined his head towards Yuuri’s lingerie. God, he wanted to taste those hips…

“It still fits,” Yuuri smiled, flushing lightly. “I’ve saved a few other things. If you’re good, maybe I’ll show you some more tonight.”

Victor’s phone pinged suddenly from the chair next to the bed. One- two- three times. Victor glanced over hesitantly. _Eight_ times.

Before Victor could say a word, Yuuri had dug the phone out of a pile of their discarded clothes and silenced it.

“No distractions,” he asserted. He reached out for Victor’s chin, leaning in for a long, melting kiss, and lingering close to his face afterwards. “Eyes on me.”

 

 

They didn’t discover until late morning the next day that Yurio had gone complaining to Phichit with his suspicions about Yuuri’s ‘roleplay problem,’ which had somehow resulted in pictures of Yuuri in a dress circulating the internet.

The fans loved it.

Victor _loved_  it.

Yuuri couldn’t bring himself to show his face at the rink for a week.


End file.
